


Waiting for You

by live_with_love



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Coma, Gen, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-20
Updated: 2012-11-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 04:00:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/568839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/live_with_love/pseuds/live_with_love
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Spoilers for chapter 515. Gen. AU - canon divergent)</p><p>Every day, for longer than he cared to remember, Abarai Renji had made that lonely trek to his captain's bedside. Every time he sat beside that sleeping figure and held a conversation with an empty room, he could feel hope slipping further from his grasp.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting for You

**Author's Note:**

> This is a future fic exploring what might happen if Byakuya stays in his coma, focusing mainly on Renji's reaction to his captain's absence. Copious amounts of angst on Renji's part, solved in part by the calming influence of tea.  
> I made myself cry with this... I hope you enjoy it, angst fans!
> 
> Beta'd by my good friend, Sammich. Thank you muchly <3
> 
> For those interested, I wrote this listening to two songs on repeat, both from the Fushigi Yuugi OST; 'Setsunakutemo... Zutto' (Even if it's painful... always) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vj9yZ6oEUIs and 'Shiawase ni narou, ne' (Let's be happy, ok) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R7Fi9xIMs9k

He cleared his throat as he hesitated in the doorway - a soft, awkward noise that he was sure his captain would not allow if he could hear it. No, he shouldn’t think like that, was not _allowed_ to think like that. For his own sanity as much as anything else. Nonetheless, he had disturbed the silence of the room already and his clumsy footsteps could do no more damage, right? With a decisive nod, he stepped inside. It was strange how much he still felt like an intruder, here.

It was a cold, clinical room, though Renji had tried his best to cheer it up; whether his captain would particularly appreciate that gesture was another question entirely. He certainly _hoped_ Byakuya would… The walls were covered with framed calligraphy, painstakingly drawn out over weeks, even months at a time, every brushstroke rehearsed and practiced. And not a few of the practice parchments had been stained with evidence of Renji's secret shame, something he had hidden even from Rukia, all this time. The kanji had been specially picked: ‘health’, ‘diligence’, ‘loyalty’, ‘strength’. Renji fancied that Byakuya would not be too proud of the one that hung above the bed, the one with the shakiest lines of all even after months of fruitless practice. But ‘love’ hung there nevertheless.

There were flowers on the window ledge, too, but that was Rukia’s doing. Whatever was in season, simply to fill the room with a fresh scent and her gentle touch, accompanied _always_ by a single, dried cherry blossom. They had rescued a blanket from the manor to throw over the bed before they locked Byakuya‘s room, one worked with a simple pattern of koi fish dancing along its edge. Renji reached out a hand now, to brush that as he passed; he always hoped Byakuya would have appreciated the thought behind that small treasure.

Renji swept past before he could think on it too much and moved to the table in the centre of the room. He switched on the portable hotplate there, beginning to brew tea. It was a ritual he had observed since the very day he had become this man’s lieutenant and he was going to be damned if something like this would stop him carrying out his duties. The gentle aroma of the leaves that he measured and prepared carefully calmed him, helped him to push back emotion threatening to overwhelm and reduce him again to the state he’d been left in after the… incident.

He hadn’t functioned back then, had barely been able to breathe. Entreaties, pleading words, even outright begging… nothing had soothed him or changed anything. Renji had spent days in this very room, staring at the wall and listening to the quiet, almost inaudible breathing of the man he respected above all others while he prayed to every deity he knew in fervent whispers. With red rimmed eyes and a voice hoarse from begging, he played the part of the faithful dog and sat at his master’s feet, not sure how to move on or even take that first step without his guiding hand.

As the days turned to weeks and the weeks into that first horrible month, Renji had, slowly, realised Byakuya would have scolded him for this. His captain would have been so disappointed in his absent lieutenant. Renji had faced charges for desertion once before from this man and he was not about to, effectively, commit a similar crime. So he threw himself into his work, utterly determined to be the very best lieutenant he could be. It helped more than Renji could ever say to have focus, to have a _purpose_ again. When Taichou finally opened his eyes, he would see a functioning sixth division, ready to jump and rally behind their ailing captain.

That had been the plan, anyway.

Three years. Three years he had clung to that dream while the only things that had kept him sane were Rukia and his work. He barely stopped, desperate beyond belief to act as Kuchiki-taichou would, to keep his slumbering captain proud of him. And slumbering he was, for Renji refused to believe anything else – refused to even entertain the idea! Believing anything else, even for a moment, would have broken him long before he was ready for harsh truths. He was allowed his period of grief, left alone to come to the hard decisions he finally had to make. His stomach twisted even now as he remembered that dark, grief-stricken day spent screaming at the walls and the comatose patient, demanding and entreating in turns for Byakuya to just _come back_.

The kettle whistled as it boiled and Renji jumped, wrenched out of his thoughts. Ah, he had been immeasurably pig-headed back then, he thought with a rueful chuckle, pouring the water into its pot. Arguably, he was still just as stubborn, but in far subtler – and, perhaps, more useful – ways. This tea ceremony being one. Renji shared a little smile with himself and set the tray as he always had: the teapot was stood on its special mat; two cups set in front; one on each side; and a plate of rice crackers placed just before the teapot itself. He carried the whole thing back across to the bed, material heavier than it had any right to be tangling between his legs as he stepped.

Yes, the haori had always weighed him down, Renji remembered with a sigh as he set the tray on the small table beside the bed. He had hoped that the weight would grow easier to bear as the years passed, but it still dragged at his shoulders even now as it had that very first day. The weight of responsibility. Tugging it straight as he sat – Taichou had never approved of him being sloppily dressed – Renji swept his sleeve to the side and poured the tea with the ease of long years of practice.

The room was silent as it was every day, save for the trickling music of the tea and Byakuya’s slow, even breathing. His division (that had taken the longest, for him to think of it as _his_ division) knew that their captain vanished for an hour every day, precisely at 3pm. They never disturbed him here. It never changed, and Renji had accepted that now, but he was far too stubborn to stop this little ritual, to let that last, dim spark of hope fade. He would continue this until the day one of them died, so help him.

Renji set the pot down with a soft clink and picked up his cup, blowing on it to cool the hot liquid. 

“Good afternoon, Taichou,” he said softly, eyes drifting for the first time to that sleeping form. If it wasn’t for the wires and tubes, he could almost believe Byakuya was just sleeping an ordinary sleep. There was always a pause before Renji continued, though it was never answered;

“We are doing well. I’m keeping the division going without you, Sir, though it’s been rough this week. It always is, this time of year…” Renji trailed off with a short sigh and sipped at his tea, letting the delicately-flavoured liquid calm him. Everyone found it hard at this time of year to remember those loved ones who had passed. 

“I am still keeping up with my kidou,” he added once he felt able to speak again, something he always reported on once a year, without fail; “I have finally been able to master those spells in the late eighties without their incantations,” Renji finished with some measure of pride. Sixth division, the squad Byakuya had left, would not be the same without their kidou master at the helm.

Of course, the response he always hoped for didn’t come. Renji sighed again and relaxed back in his chair, taking measured, slow sips of the liquid, savouring it as he had always been told to do. He drank tea almost exclusively these days, rather than sake or coffee; a captain had to be responsible, had to have his wits about him. 

“The haori… is heavy today, sir,” Renji whispered, allowing himself in this silent, private moment to express those insecurities he kept from everyone else. “But I know you always wanted me to wear one of my own. I can bear it.” He could bear it, but he didn’t have to like it. 

Renji took his time, after that, to sit and meditate almost, matching his breathing to Byakuya’s and just _being_. It settled those turbulent forces within him; it let him emerge from this room once more the calm, collected captain he had grown to be. And after six years, he had done a great deal of growing.

“Six years tomorrow, Sir,” he said to the room at large, keeping his voice light. “You have made us wait.” Renji couldn’t continue; even after all this time, he couldn’t scold _this man_. 

Putting his cup down with a bitter sigh, Renji stood and collected up the tray, carrying it back to the table. He emptied Byakuya’s tea, as he always did, back into the pot. Renji wrapped a towel around it to help keep it warm and turned back to the bed, lifting the tray again in an easy movement; he and Rukia always shared the rest of the tea together. Renji was sorry for the shortened visit, but – today of all days – he risked breaking down if he stayed and he wasn’t sure he could pick up those pieces again. Not now. He was actually proud of himself that his hand didn’t tremble. 

Smiling a very soft, sad smile, Renji gave the bed his customary cheeky salute. “Sleep well, Taichou. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

He had made it halfway to the door before the lack of sound froze him in his step. The breathing had stopped.

The breathing had stopped.

Renji turned on his heel so fast he made his head spin, despite the terror holding his heart in a cold grip. He took a step back to the bed and froze again, every muscle in his body _shaking_ at what he saw.

Byakuya’s eyelids flickered. And, as Renji watched, dumbstruck, they flickered again and Byakuya gave a weak cough. Renji _sprinted_ to Byakuya’s bedside, the tray falling unheeded from suddenly limp fingers to crash against the floor, shattering the stillness that had reigned here for a very long time.

Renji held his breath while Byakuya coughed, while his eyes bored into his sleeping captain’s. They filled with tears when Byakuya’s blinked open, holding a bewildered question. Renji choked back a noise that was half a sob and half a laugh, almost not daring to believe what he saw.

“Renji…?” Byakuya croaked, the hoarse whisper rasping from a throat long unused barely recognisable as his name. He coughed again and Renji’s eyes widened as his brain caught up and informed him that, yes, Byakuya was actually _awake and talking to him._

“I’m here, Taichou,” he whispered, laying a hand over one of Byakuya’s own. “I- made tea, but I seem to have spilled it,” Renji finished with a disbelieving laugh, knowing that wasn’t important. He was babbling, saying the first thing that jumped to mind. Just as he always had.

A hint of a smile touched Byakuya’s face, dull eyes quickly regaining their shine. “Clumsy,” he managed to croak once again, barely having the energy to be surprised as he took in the white decorating Renji’s shoulders.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s me,” Renji laughed, straightening up. “You- you just don’t move or anything, ok? I’m gonna get Unohana-taichou!”

He raced for the door but paused just before it, casting a grin over his shoulder at a confused but still slightly smiling Byakuya. Ducking his head, he added, in a voice raw with emotion:

“You have no fucking idea how great it is to see you awake.” 

Renji, uncomfortable with just how damn vulnerable he sounded, finished with a soft chuckle; “Though it’s hardly your style, Taichou. You could’ve waited till tomorrow, for the drama of the thing. I’d have forgiven ya.” 

Byakuya didn’t laugh, didn’t _know_ what today almost was but he met Renji’s gaze with one sharper than a man who had been almost dead had any right to possess. He knew _enough_.

“You‘re… still… here?” he rasped, the words painful in his throat.

Renji’s grin softened and he answered his captain only with a deep, respectful bow before shunpoing for Unohana’s office. The haori did not weigh him down any longer.


End file.
